


FLOWERS; for a dead person

by MariposaMonarca



Category: Powerpuff Girls
Genre: F/M, References to Depression
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-11
Updated: 2020-12-06
Packaged: 2021-03-10 04:07:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 8,750
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27508075
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MariposaMonarca/pseuds/MariposaMonarca
Summary: Boomer worked cleaning up the hospital where Bubbles was staying. Since she was admitted, Boomer's attention was drawn to how distant and empty she was. As his only recourse, he thought he could cheer up the girl by anonymously leaving flowers, which he cut from the hospital gardens, by her bed as a gift to make her feel accompanied.
Relationships: Boomer/Bubbles Utonium
Kudos: 7





	1. OO

**Author's Note:**

  * A translation of [FLORES para un muerto](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/712147) by Mariposa Monarca. 

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "외로움이 가득히 피어있는 이 garden 가시투성이  
> 이 모래성에 난 날 매었어"  
> 
> 
> "Full of loneliness, this garden is blossoming full of thorns.  
>  I stayed in this sand castle"

Since I heard about her depressed state, I sent her flowers.

It's not like I was buying her bouquets every day, nor did it mean that I was delivering them personally; they were just occasional flowers I took from the garden, which I left by her bed in that cold, white hospital room. I was not sure of her health status, I only knew vague details, but if she was hospitalized it must have been for something serious. She had been there for a couple of weeks and no one came to see her, even though I heard visitors asking for her at the reception desk on several occasions.

Could it be that she didn't want to see anyone? I wouldn't be surprised.

I work cleaning the hospital, am in charge of the corridor where she is, and listen to the nurses' comments regarding her condition and attitudes. They are not very good opinions.

"She never talks, and that upsets me."  
"Yes, and I don't understand it. She should thank us!"

I understand that it must be stressful for them to have to deal with a patient who says nothing, who doesn't look at anyone, who doesn't communicate, a patient who only listens to the doctor's instructions and the constant consequences of not eating, because the girl spent three days refusing every type of food that was offered.

She was barely in her twenties, and I was at least five years ahead of her.

My work at this hospital was limited to cleaning, but sometimes it was unavoidable to interact with some patients, especially those who were about to leave, since they looked healthier compared to when they were admitted. They looked alive, and that was funny to me. They became more friendly, thanking you and even talking to you when you met them in the corridors, or when I went to clean the floor of their rooms.

The grunt of that nurse coming out of the girl's room took my mind off it. She didn't look at me, I stepped aside so she could pass. From the way she was walking, you could tell she was absolutely upset. I looked at the girl's door, and I noticed that she left it ajar. The lady had definitely given that nurse some kind of trouble. On the other hand, I have always considered that woman to be an unpleasant person, so I couldn't understand why she always bothered with the patients when she never removed that bitterness from her face.

It was around 1:30 p.m., the time when the patients were supposed to eat. The corridors reeked of food, the abundance of which seemed to be potato, and just feeling that smell absolutely spoiled my appetite. I wouldn't be surprised if that happened to the girl too.

I kept mopping the floor as I approached the door of her room, and I could see her, she seemed to be eating only the dessert, which consisted of cooked fruit, but the purée and the protein were left aside; she was not going to eat them, that was a fact, she had already seen the tray in her room being removed: only the fruit juice glass was empty and the dessert sector, the rest was always intact.

The girl was light-skinned, with long blonde hair, and had a sort of vague fringe; considerably thin and also with some dark circles under her eyes. I once heard one of the nurses say that she had some flirtatious freckles on her nose, but from my position, it was difficult to check if this was true. I watched her for a couple of seconds until she stopped eating and looked lost; she had a very nice profile. She had nothing but an empty expression on her face as she looked out the window. From the time she has been here, I have not seen her leave her room except for meetings with the doctor and when she has to go to the bathroom to clean herself. However, everything happens at a distance from me, I have never seen her directly in the eyes nor have I walked past her in the hallway.

She lowered her gaze, I could see that she sighed because of the movement of her shoulders, but then she noticed that I was looking at her, she didn't express anything with her face, she just stared at me, leaving me a little nervous.

"I'm sorry" I said as I approached to grab the doorknob, "the nurse left the door open. I'll close it right now".

She didn't look away from me until I closed the door, and that made me incredibly uncomfortable. It was a somewhat penetrating, terrifying look.  
In short, it was a look of emptiness.


	2. O1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "너의 이름은 뭔지 갈 곳이 있긴 한지 Oh could you tell me?  
> 이 정원에 숨어든 널 봤어"
> 
> "What's your name? Do you have somewhere to go? Oh, could you tell me?  
> I've seen you hiding in this garden."

My decision to bring her flowers was based on a simple piece of advice I heard from my grandmother before she passed away: "You can make a person smile if you make them bloom". Maybe I had taken it too literally, but since I started taking them to her, she seemed calmer, or at least that's what she could appreciate from the distance between us.

Ah, that sounded a bit cliche, and the truth is I don't consider this a love story.

My modus operandi was simple: I knew when the girl woke up, and when she did, she notified the nurse in charge to take her to the showers. That was when I would take the opportunity to clean her room and leave the flower on the table while I was at it. Usually I varied between yellow or white flowers; I didn't dare to cut a rose from the gardens, not for fear of being discovered, but because I didn't find it appropriate. Today, it was a yellow one, with numerous, long, thin petals.

I thought that my day would be quiet, anyway I had already finished the rounds that I always do before my shift ends at about two o'clock in the afternoon. However, I didn't count on the fact that when I was cleaning the girl's hallway, a sturdy nurse, one you would always see with a smile so warm that it matched her constant pink cheeks, came out of her room with the tray in her hands and, on seeing me, smiled with relief.

"I'm glad I didn't have to go out looking for you!", she and I used to be on a first-name basis because we were the same age. I need your help.

"What's going on?", I asked and she pointed to the girl's room, shaking her head in that direction.

"The girl, Bubbles, turned over the tray of food" she sighed. "All the soup was scattered, as was the fruit and salad. Could you clean it up? I have to go see if there's any more food left to bring her. It was an oversight, I'm sure she didn't mean any harm."

"Wouldn't it be more convenient if a colleague of yours did it?"

"Don't worry, man, I won't be long."

She squeezed my wrist with one of her hands, smiled at me and walked down the aisle. I didn't like this at all, but I couldn't leave the Bubbles girl alone. I walked to her bedroom door, it was five steps that had kept us apart, and now, for the first time, I would be closer to her. I wondered if the atmosphere would be uncomfortable for her, because it sure was for me.

"Excuse me," I said in a low voice as I slowly opened the door to her room, "I'm here to clean up the food that the lady didn't want to eat."

I laughed softly, I wanted to sound nice, funny, but she didn't make a sound. When I looked at her, she was sitting by the window, but she was not looking at the main garden, but was looking carefully at the yellow flower I had left for her, the one resting on the night table. That flower was the only thing she had there. Hospital patients had no right to have any belongings, unless they were no longer considered dangerous to their health.

"Ah, but what a beautiful flower you have there!" I said to the moment I was mopping the floor, I smiled warmly and she looked at me. "Did you pick it?"

With her gaze fixed on me, she shook her head. I wet the mop again, squeezed it and kept cleaning. I thought there was a bigger mess, and with just one more mop, everything would be ready. I looked at Bubbles again, she was still looking at the flower, however, her blue eyes unexpectedly fell back on me.

At that moment, I could see how thin she was, all that food rejection was affecting her. She was pale, because it could not be that she was this white, she did not have the same countenance that she had seen so many times. Her blond hair was wavy and a bit straw-colored, I deduce that it was due to the lack of nutrients, her lips were not red or pink, they gave the impression of being a bit purple. This girl was not at all well, but I didn't feel qualified to make any observations, after all, I'm only the janitor in the hospital corridor and, from time to time, in the reception area.

"Someone left it for you," I said.

She shrugged her shoulders and looked at the flower again.

"Did you like it?"

And although she took a while to answer me, she nodded her head.

"Good," I soaked the rag again. "Do you like flowers?"

"Not much," she spoke, and I couldn't help but look at her with some surprise.

"But this one does, doesn't it?" I added, with a horrible stutter at first, and saw that she smiled slightly.

"Yes."

"Don't you prefer to put it in water? If you don't..."

"She will die anyway," she interrupted me, "and if she has to, I prefer her to do it in my arms, not with a false life expectancy like the one a simple glass of water can give her."

For the first time I heard her voice. It was quite calm, not raspy, although I wouldn't dare say it was melodious or anything like that. I didn't say anything else to her so as not to seem invasive; the truth is that I was incredibly happy, because I was able to get her to talk I mean, with the professionals she didn't say a word, but with me she did. For the moment, there was nothing that made me happier, however, that last thing she said left me quite dismayed, worried?

... alarmed.

The nurse entered the room with a plate of fruit salad, and I immediately left.


	3. O2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And I know 너의 온긴 모두 다 진짜란 걸 푸른 꽃을 꺾는 손  
> 잡고 싶지만 
> 
> And I know that all your warmth is true.  
> I want to hold your hand picking the blue flower

From that day on, when we crossed words, I made an effort to leave her the best flowers, but now that I knew she liked yellow, I wanted to try another color. I wanted to try blue. If the color yellow had caused her to smile, I wanted to know if that would happen with a cooler color.

I was hoping, like crazy, that something would spill out or that the door would be left open, only then would I be allowed to see her, otherwise I would be in breach of my contract. But nothing was happening, nothing at all.

My shift was about to end, I had to keep the cleaning utensils in their respective cabinets, so I approached, so I decided to go for the brooms. A tall, bald man with glasses, quite thin and with a whitish beard comes out of Bubbles' room, not without first letting out a sigh and shaking his head.

"Doctor", I greeted him, he looked at me and raised his eyebrows.

"Hello, hello," he answered, obviously tired.

"Is everything all right?" at that moment, I put the key in the lock on the door that leads to the small broom cupboard.

"With the girl or in general?" he asked, smiling slightly.

"I don't know, you tell me," I put away the brooms and the mop, since it wasn't allowed to keep the other chemicals in that place, nor my uniform, only on the second floor.

"She is enchanted with some flowers," she said almost mockingly, was that part of her ethics? "Now she kept looking at a small, slightly blue flower. Maybe she took it out of the garden," he grabbed his chin, "but it's strange, because I haven't seen her come out of her room," he shrugged. "The thing is that she keeps looking at the flower, touching its tiny petals and, as always, she doesn't utter a word".

"Ah," I nodded my head, and even though I wanted to, I resisted the urge to smile, "I understood, kind of".

"She prefers to stay and look at some flowers instead of receiving her family" he sighs something annoying and starts walking down the corridor, I close the door well and go after him with a few bottles of cleaner in my hands. "I have to tell the poor mother that her daughter doesn't want to talk, that she doesn't cooperate, and that, of course, she is not interested in anything but some flowers".

"Couldn't that be considered progress, sir? At least she is showing interest in something".

"You don't understand these things, I'm just wasting my time explaining them to you".

That was the last thing the doctor said to me that day before he got on the elevator, but even though, in the end, it seemed like he was insulting me, or wanting to make me feel inferior for my work in front of his, I was happy because Bubbles was happy to receive the flowers. Somehow or other, I felt like I was helping her with her depressed state, but I was worried that she didn't want to talk to the doctors yet, especially if it was her family.

So I thought, if she talked to me one day, it might be repeated, right?


	4. O3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 내 운명인 걸 Don't smile on me, light on me,  
> 너에게 다가설 수 없으니까  
> 내겐 불러줄 이름이 없어
> 
> It is my destiny. Don't smile on me, light on me,  
> because I can't come to you.  
> There is no name you can call me.

I had been thinking a lot about what kind of flowers I could give Bubbles this time to help her with her condition, but then I remembered that not long ago I had found myself depressed and had quit since she took all my attention.

I had a long relationship with an upper-class lady, but we were always in the shadows. Ten years of my life were taken by her. For ten years I settled for crumbs of her time, for nights that meant everything to me, but for her, a couple of hours of pleasure. When I thought that we could finally tell everyone that we were together, after planning trips, after I proposed to her! She despised me for the gold ring I had been able to afford —promising to buy her a precious stone— and showed me the engagement ring with an ostentatious ruby that her fiancé, "the man of her life", had given her. I had thought I had found love, but I was just a hobby.

Six months went by since my heart was broken, and six months ago I started to fall apart internally, until I saw her and wanted to help her. It felt like a duty, one that I still don't fully understand. Now that I think about it and analyze it carefully, the appearance of Bubbles meant like a cure for me, since, trying to get a smile out of her at all costs, I feel that I am good for something, that my existence is worthwhile. Well, it seems that I am achieving my goal with her.

I kept bringing her those blue flowers —according to what I discovered on the Internet, they are called hepatic anemones, or something like that, I don't remember well— until one day I found her door ajar again. It was my time to talk to her, to see her looking at the flower. I needed to witness that moment, even if it was only for an instant. I was going to ask her if she wanted me to close the door, that was my perfect excuse, something totally believable and to be expected, since patients were not allowed to have the doors of their rooms open. I made sure there was no nurse, I just peeked in, she saw me and talked to me:

"Do you know who is the person who sends me these flowers?"

I ended up stumbling in, afraid I might have spilled some of the liquid in the bucket, but that was not the case. I looked at her again, noticed that she had a little more color, was no longer pale, her lips were pink again and her hair did not look so frizzy. But, those details didn't matter at the time. She was waiting for an answer to her question, she wanted me to give it to her. Should I tell her it was me? I got extremely nervous, so much so that I grabbed hold of the doorknob, but I didn't move at all, I just held still. She looked at me with some hope, I didn't know what else to do besides shaking my head.

"No," I said, "I don't know".

"And how am I supposed to thank them?"

"I'm sorry, miss, I'm not allowed to talk to patients, nor can I enter their room unless it's dirty..."

And in an act of impulsivity, Bubbles took the well where he had some fruit salad left and threw it on the floor.

"There, something dirty," she seemed desperate, "please help me".

"Miss," I sighed, I'm a bit overwhelmed by this childish attitude, "you should be talking to professionals about this, not to me, a simple janitor".

"The doctor insists that I talk to him, and the nurses just force me to eat their disgusting food," she said. "They just ask me the same questions over and over again".

"If you answer them, maybe they'll stop asking you the same questions," I said, finishing mopping at her feet, the distance between us was shorter than before.

"They want to drug me," her tone of voice was very low. "They don't care how I really am".

I looked at her, trying not to raise my head so that she would think I was still mopping. I was closer than before, I wanted to take the opportunity to observe her better. Her eyes were very beautiful, they were receiving the impact of a sunbeam, and although I also have blue eyes, it bothered me when the light reached me, but it seemed that was not the case with her.

"Can I ask you something?", I said and she nodded. "Why do you talk to me and not to them?"

"Because you don't seem to want to judge me or classify me as just another patient, just another sick person," she said contemptuously. "But they do," she looked me straight in the eye, "they're just like my family; they think I'm a deviant, a misfit".

"Is that why you are here?"

"I'm back, Bubbles! -said the sturdy nurse, with great enthusiasm as she shook a small glass with a couple of pill bottles. "Huh? What are you doing here?" she asked.

"The lady spilled the fruit," I placed the rag on the bucket, "I was just doing my job. Excuse me" and I left the room, closing the door behind me.

I swallowed my saliva, I didn't really understand the situation, but not understanding it was the least of my worries, compared to the happiness I felt when she considered that I was good for more than cleaning the hospital floors.

If only I could tell her that I am the one who leaves her the flowers... But I don't dare cross that line.

Oh, I forgot something: it's true what they say, she has some nice and flirtatious freckles on her nose.


	5. O4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 난 두려운 걸 초라해 I'm so afraid 결국엔 너도 날 또 떠나버릴까  
> 또 가면을 쓰고 널 만나러 가 
> 
> I am afraid,I am shattered, I’m so afraid that you will leave me again in the end.  
> Once again I put on a mask and go to see you

How long has it been? About four months. Right now, Bubbles had a little breakthrough: she's going out in the garden for a walk.

Recently, I left her a bindweed, and she loved those much more. In fact, she loved them so much that when she went out in the garden after lunch, she would walk around those flowers, accompanied by one of the nurses. I could see her in the distance, since at that time my shift was over and I had to leave the hospital. But I was able to look at her smiling slightly, I could see how happy she was, how comfortable she was among the flowers, as if she wanted to mingle with them. Maybe that will mean a breakthrough in her treatment and she can be discharged. And the thought of them letting her go scared me a little, because I wouldn't be able to see her anymore.

Would I be able to never see her again?

I kept thinking about it until the next day arrived and my work day began. I was going to clean the hallway, when I heard the doctor calling me by my last name, which he used to mispronounce all the time, I was sure he was doing it on purpose.

"I just want to ask you a very brief question," he said, rubbing his chin. "Has Bubbles talked to you?"

"A couple of times," I answered truthfully, "I just asked her about her flower and she wanted to know if I had any idea who it might be".

"Did she ask you that?" he seemed surprised, I nodded. "Oh, my..."

"Do you need anything else?"

"Can you stay for a half hour after your shift?"

"What for?"

"I want you to take Bubbles to the garden. I'll be watching you from afar, just to analyze her behavior with you".

"Why?"

"Because it could mean that we would already be in a position to discharge her, she would show mastery in social relations" he stared at me. "We will pay you very well, okay? I would need you to tell me what you talked about".

"Doesn't that count as an invasion of patient privacy?" I asked, I was on edge.

"No, because I don't want details, I just want to know how many topics of conversation you can handle in thirty minutes. Since she doesn't talk to us, just simple monosyllables, we categorize her as "asocial", but if she really talks to you, it means she's not, she would just be selective about who she talks to, can you understand me?"

"I think so".

"Okay," he nodded, "I'll wait for you at two o'clock, tell her you'll be with her for half an hour because her nurse won't be available before then".

And so he left me, bewildered and nervous in the hallway as he entered his office.

The hours passed slowly, and every time I went to touch up the hallway where Bubbles' room was, my heart was racing just because of the nerves. Swallowing became difficult, and I ended up cleaning up more than my share as a way to dissipate my nerves and anxiety.

Until two o'clock, a thin nurse who always had a look on her face like she was smelling feces came out of Bubbles' room, and when she saw me in casual clothes, a simple blue sweater and black pants, with a dismissive look from head to toe, she spoke to me:

"The patient is now ready to walk in the garden".

"Okay," I answered and passed her on.

She was younger than me, and I was surprised at how bitter she could be. I knocked on the door three times before taking the knob and opening it. Bubbles was looking out the window, holding the flower in her hands.

"You really don't want to leave it in water?" When she heard my voice, she turned quickly to see me. "You will be filled with withered flowers, you should be full of life".

"What are you doing here?" She did not sound upset or surprised, her tone of voice was the same as always, calm.

"Your nurse has something to do, and I was asked to accompany you to the garden if you preferred," I pointed to the flower. "You could enjoy seeing those same flowers in their natural state".

"Alive".

"Yes, alive".

Bubbles smiled softly and nodded.

"You won't have any trouble accompanying me?"

"No," I said, smiling, "because I was asked to do so. Don't worry about it".

The times I've seen her in the garden with the nurses, she walks in front of them, doesn't talk to them, doesn't look at them, just enjoys the flowers, the perfume, the fresh garden air. With me, Bubbles was walking by my side, and when we were in the yard, she was showing me all the flowers that had come to her. Of course, I knew them too, after all, I was the one who cut them every time I entered the hospital in the morning.

"You really like flowers," I tell her when she bends down in front of a rose bush. "Be careful".

"I won't touch them," she said, "but yes, I like them... Lately I like them, because I feel that whoever gives them to me does so to encourage me, I don't see any double intentions in it".

"Don't you want to know who gave them to you anymore?"

"I always want to know," she turned to me and smiled, I felt my heart racing a bit more, "but if that person feels more comfortable keeping it a secret, I'm going to respect that".

"Oh, I understand," I agreed.

"Why won't them want to show themselves?", she asked aloud.

"Who knows," I sighed. I had to hide it as best I could, "who knows".

"The doctor told me that I might be discharged soon," she sighed, "and I really hope I know who the person is who is giving me the flowers, because I want to thank them before I leave".

"Maybe it's your own nurses".

"They are not," she said, using a somewhat coarse tone of voice, "because they make fun of me when they see me with my flowers. They think it's silly".

"Is that what they say?"

"They do, I'm sure".

"What would you do if you found this person?"

"I would thank them", she stood beside me and with a movement of her arm she showed me the garden, "because I feel that with these flowers they managed to bring out more smiles than the rest of the people in the twenty-five years of my life".

So I really get five years off her.

"Well," I couldn't help smiling, "so you could thank that person much more by smiling. That way, they could realize that they were the engine to make that smile bloom on your face".

"Do you think that person will ever see me outside this hospital?"

"Nothing is certain, but not impossible either," I said and although I wanted to touch her shoulder, I didn't, I kept a short distance between our bodies. "Don't give up".

"Bubbles!" We both turned to the voice of the nurse on duty. I knew it was time for me to leave.

"Here comes your nurse," I said. "So, I'll see you tomorrow".

"See you tomorrow," she smiled.

With her smile I feel more than paid. 


	6. O5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 어쩌면 그때 조금만 이만큼만  
> 용길 내서 너의 앞에 섰더라면  
> 지금 모든 건 달라졌을까
> 
> Maybe back then, a little, just this much  
> If I had the courage to stand before you  
> Would everything be different now?

After I spoke with the doctor, they agreed to discharge her on a Monday, a cold Monday. All this time she was hospitalized, I dedicated myself to give her flowers anonymously, I just left the flower and went, but this time I wanted to do something different. It was the last day I was going to see her, the last day we would be under the roof of the same building. I didn't want to give her just any flower, it had to be special, so I took two roses: one white and one red.

When I entered her room, I left the flowers on her bed, which was already made, after all, Bubbles was leaving at eleven o'clock in the morning. Next to the flowers, I left a note. A note that was marked as the end of the flowers I would leave for her, because I would not do it again.

I was cleaning the third floor when it was eleven o'clock in the morning, and the sturdy nurse appeared in the hallway, agitated and relieved to see me.

"Man! I was looking all over for you!," she said as she trotted to my height.

"Did a patient turn something over or what?"

"No, no," she took a big breath of air, "it's just that Bubbles wants to say goodbye to you before she leaves".

I didn't know what face I made, but when she saw me she laughed and then emitted a slight squeal of emotion.

"I can't handle this tenderness," she said and pulled my arm a little. "Come on, let's go, she's desperate to say goodbye to you. Apparently you were the only one who managed to form a bond with her, despite having spent little time by her side".

My feet were moving only because I was being guided by the nurse. I thought the last time I was going to see Bubbles was on Saturday when I had to clean her room after she spilled tea. But the fact that she wanted to say goodbye to me caused me an indescribable tenderness, a feeling that was difficult to explain. I was remembering my adolescence with this situation, and the truth is that I didn't feel worthy of saying goodbye to Bubbles, due to my cowardice.

When we reached the second floor, we walked to the reception. Bubbles had her hair tied in a low ponytail, she wasn't smiling, but there was something about her face that made her look alive. A red-haired lady was standing next to her, looking in a hurry, as if being in the hospital was a martyrdom for her. Bubbles, when she saw me, smiled. I could tell she was holding the two roses in her hands, and the note was pressed tightly against her chest.

"There you are!" she said to me, "Didn't you think to say goodbye to me?"

"Sorry," I said with a slight smile, "I was working".

"Be brief, Bubbles, please," said the woman, she rolled her eyes.

"We don't talk much," she licked her thick lips, "but even so, I want to thank you. I would have liked to have known you better".

"The pleasure was mine," I nodded and pointed to the flowers. "I'm sorry you never got to find out who was giving you the flowers".

"It doesn't matter," she looked at them and smiled. "I never knew, maybe I never will," she looked at me again. "But I am very grateful to that person".

"I'm glad," I smiled.

"Do you think we can meet outside this building?" she grimaced when she said the last word, I couldn't help but laugh.

"I don't see why not," I answered.

"Do you mean it?"

"Yes," I shrugged, "I'm serious.

"Okay, then you'll have to give me your contact".

All this seemed very unreal. Is this girl so lively, so alive, the same as before? Yes, she's the same, only now she was fixed, improved.

I couldn't deny that I liked this Bubbles better than the previous one, just because her flowery smile illuminated her face, and not only that, but she did too. I stayed to see her until she walked through the front door of the hospital. I might never get her call, but that didn't matter to me. I had already done something for her. And she had taken a part of me too.

After all, I had no problem keeping my distance if she was happy. The note I left with her was my final communication, because with Bubbles leaving that horrible building, where more and more patients were being admitted, I felt empty again, which meant, at least for me, that I would no longer have a reason to send flowers to someone, giving me the time to choose one particularly for someone specific. I could go back to being the indifferent janitor, the one who wouldn't talk to you unless you did, the one who would clean up your mess, listen to the nurses' conversations and moaning, the one who would get the stares of disgust from all the upper class people who came to the compound to visit their relatives, and the one who would get the doctor's spit for just doing my job. I was once again catalogued as a monster, and I don't know why I was so overwhelmed and made me want to cry, I was already used to the loneliness of work, to the loneliness of my reality.

I sighed, and was sent to clean the room she had occupied, as another patient was about to be admitted. While I was cleaning the floor, I looked at the window. It was cloudy, it looked like it was going to rain, maybe it was snowing. Ah, the flowers should be better cared for this day, they could die of cold. But why am I thinking about that? Why am I crying? I rested my hands on the end of the ragpicker's stick, then, my jaw on them, I felt the warmth of my tears, I sobbed a little and resumed my work. I wasn't allowed to cry, when I was the one who caused such events with my cowardice.

"If only I had told you that, all this time, it was me, no one else but me".

> "Smile for me, smile for you. Everything seems to light up when you do. I will not tell you my name because I am a coward, but I will thank you for showing me that I can make even a dead one smile" -Flower Coward.


	7. OX

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 난 울고 있어 사라진 무너진  
> 홀로 남겨진 이 모래성에서 부서진 가면을 바라보면서  
> And I still want you
> 
> I'm crying. That’s disappeared. That’s fallen  
> Left alone in this sandcastle  
> Looking at this broken mask  
> And I still want you

We agreed to meet, her call had taken me by surprise as it was just at the time I was brushing my teeth before going to sleep one Thursday. To be honest, I never thought that Bubbles would be interested in me, that she would ask me for the contact number to show her mother that she was capable of doing things like socializing on her own, I thought it would all stay there, in the mere request. But no, she had really called me.

I remember her voice perfectly, hearing her behind the line made my stomach tingle. She sounded very feminine, mature, _alive_. I wasn't sure if I was really in reality, that I was living in that moment. It could be an illusion, like the ones I had before, however, it was not like that, she had really called me, she wanted to go with me to have tea, since she had been forbidden to have coffee, because she needed to see me. The appointment was at eleven o'clock in "Little Teahouse", a place that was in the coast of the city, on Sunday, my day off.

"I only have half an hour, but I really want to see you, can we get together even if it's for that short time?"

I could not refuse, I did not feel capable of refusing to see the girl who had become my everything during her stay in that undesirable place. On Friday I was nervous, I did not know how to explain to my brothers the reason for my delay to the lunch that one of them had planned with the supposed excuse that his so-called girlfriend did I do not know what. I didn't pay attention, because the truth was that I wasn't interested. I love my brothers, but I dislike their girlfriends, and the thought of seeing them discourages me completely. Ah, as if that wasn't enough, their younger sister was also invited, a girl who had been away for a while, something like that. They wanted me to socialize, or worse, to get a girlfriend, and they were freaking out at the thought of putting "the three little brothers and sisters" together, even if the bastards weren't able to say it out loud.

I wouldn't attend, after seeing Bubbles, I wouldn't want anything to distract me. I will need some time for myself, just for me; to relate to someone after meeting her, will only show how empty her constant physical absence has left me, because I keep thinking about her, even when I don't want to. It is in vain, since Bubbles doesn't have to correspond to me.

I... am hopelessly in love with Bubbles, however, I am too much of a coward to say so, even more so to confess my _identity_ to her.

Then came Saturday, my work day had nothing relevant to say, perhaps the nice nurse and I left our respective shifts together and she offered to take me to the subway station, but nothing more. Oh yes, she told me I was too thin, and that it would be best if I went to the doctor. Also, she told me she was getting married, I didn't even know she had a partner. I was happy for her, but I couldn't help comparing myself... Wow, I'm really a failure.

And with the arrival of Sunday, I faced my reflection. I would only be with her for half an hour, and, from my home to the place of the appointment, it would take me almost an hour in transportation, considering bus and subway (if I took them with less than five minutes waiting for them). And I would do all that for half an hour? Absolutely, yes. We might not even be able to drink our cup of tea properly, we might not even order anything and it was probably a waste of time, but even if she told me she had five lousy minutes, I would take them, but it would be worse not to have a second of her company. I needed to see her and say goodbye for the last time, I knew it would be the final goodbye. Without further ado, I was already getting on the bus, stuck my head to the window when I found a seat and closed my eyes, so I could dream until it was time to get off and walk to the meeting place. A picturesque building was the home of "Little Teahouse". At first sight I didn't understand why it was called "Little" when it obviously wasn't. I wasn't thinking that Bubbles had taken me for a sucker, but I don't know if it was funny or uncomfortable, because it was a great house, "Little" is just the name. Then I remembered that she seemed to be a classy lady, so there was nothing strange about her frequenting those places and asking to see me in a place where she felt comfortable; in that case, if I had been the one who chose the place for the date, I wouldn't have a place, because I'm not someone who goes out a lot, I only know not very nice night places.

"Hello!"

Behind me she appeared, wearing a white dress, of which only the skirt could be seen since she was wearing a semi-buttoned brown coat, her blond hair was falling gracefully down her shoulders, her cheeks were somewhat pink and I could notice that she was wearing lip gloss. She smiled at me, I wanted to start crying; I bowed my head, and when I lifted her up, I smiled back.

"Hello, Bubbles".

We went inside and sat down at a table inside the building because it was a bit cold to be on the terrace. The topic of conversation was not a problem, Bubbles was speaking from the elbows. First she told me she had convinced her family to give her at least fifteen more minutes in my company, so they accepted her for an hour. She told me she had a commitment after that, and that her whole week was filled with her work as a fashion worker, even her weekends were crazy. I listened to her carefully, I realized that at no time did she talk about her past and the reason why she went to such an extreme to be admitted to that hospital, for sure she was a piece of shit stuck on a stick. I wasn't going to ask her, it didn't seem right, after all, we didn't trust each other.

"I've been thinking," she said at the moment I took the first sip of the red fruit and vanilla tea she chose for me, "about the person of the flowers".

I almost spat out what I had drunk, but I hid it as best I could, she seemed not to notice.

"Ah... Yes? Still?" first words that came out of my mouth since she started talking to me.

"Still," she smiled, "what will become of that person?"

"She's probably still working at the hospital".

"Do you know who that is?" she leaned over the table, looking very excited.

"No," I lied, "I'm sorry," she pouted and returned to her position.

Sometimes I hated myself because of how cowardly I turned out to be. What was it hard for me to say "yes, I'm the one who's been sending you flowers, it's a pleasure that we can look each other in the eye, with no secrets between us"? But no, I didn't feel capable of doing that; neither did I consider myself worthy of these minutes she was giving me. Bubbles was a very pure person, very beautiful, I was nothing but a monster who could contemplate her in the distance. I saw her reborn when she only thought about dying, I could not consider that kind of destiny was waiting for me too.

"It's all right," she said, "I've gotten used to her absence anyway. If you prefer it that way, my reward would be to show you how well I feel now... How alive I am".

The smile that she gave me at that moment penetrated inside me, I felt that it was also a direct stab at my heart, at my fucking and irremediable existence.

" _Coward, coward, coward,_ " I repeated to myself over and over again in that moment. I hated myself, you have no idea how much I hated myself at that moment.

"Why don't you tell me a little bit about yourself?" -she had looked at her watch. "We have fifteen minutes left, I want to know even a little bit about you. You look young, why do you work cleaning the hospital? Didn't you study at the university?"

I clenched my fists, looked away, then looked back at my empty cup of tea. I nodded slowly, it was hard for me to talk about myself, when I have always closed myself off to everyone. I have never considered my life worth telling, anyway, it's not like anyone cares much about me.

"I finished school, I was the only one of my brothers to do so," I began to say, "but no university would accept me. My grades were not outstanding, not bad, but the school where I graduated qualified as a "bad place". Public education in a poor neighborhood, I think you'll understand my point. My two older brothers were not able to complete their education, because at that time, money was scarce, but they took specialty courses as a way of compensating and, the truth is, they ended up with good jobs. One is an electrician and the other works as a mechanic. I didn't know what to do. I wanted to dedicate myself to gastronomy, but the institute that taught that career, rejected me because I couldn't pay the tuition".

"How so?" She was surprised, she understood, I was the same at that time.

"My application went with a request for a scholarship, which I could apply for since I met all the requirements, it is a state scholarship, it had nothing to do with the internal service of the institute. Well, when they saw that I was applying for that scholarship, they told me that they weren't going to accept that I did not pay the tuition, and it turns out that it was too expensive. I told them that if I was applying for that state scholarship it was because I did not have the means to pay, but I told them that I really wanted to study there. They turned me down. In my desperation to contribute money, I got into a restaurant dishwasher, even though I didn't cook, I felt comfortable.

"How did you end up in the hospital?" Her tone of voice was low, she looked at me with pity. How I hated that look.

"I needed more money, I looked to see if there was another restaurant that would pay more, I found that the company that provides cleaning consultants to the hospital was in need of people, so I tried my luck," I leaned over. "That was it".

I was unconvinced, I bet I wanted to know more about myself, but I don't feel comfortable revealing so much detail about my life that I plan to forget. Just as she left out any hint of the reason for her hospitalization, I will leave out any detail related to my past, present and private life.

"What about your brothers? Do you talk to them?" She bent over the table again.

"Yes, I am constantly receiving calls and messages from them. They don't live here, only I stayed, they emigrated from the city a couple of years ago".

"And why did you stay here?"

"Maybe I'm waiting for an opportunity to believe in myself again, and prove to myself that I can achieve my goals".

"Did you ever," she began to speak with hesitation as she fiddled with her hands on the table, "did anything you set out to do... come true?"

"Several things," I said, "it's just that I was motivated at the time, and now I'm a little discouraged," I laughed softly.

"Can I tell you something?"

She had lowered her head, looked a little uneasy, did not look directly at me, but quickly turned her gaze towards me. I said yes, she sighed, seemed to relax and spoke:

"When I got to the hospital, I liked to look out the window. It was weird, you know, because I always thought it was my destiny to die there, either because of my refusal to eat, or simply because I had no intention of taking the so-called medication that I was supposed to take to recover. I didn't think I could do it, maybe I didn't want to either. One day I woke up early, very early, almost an hour before my "official" time," she made the quotation mark with her fingers. "So I stood up and walked around my room, I enjoyed moving around with some freedom, without being under the influence of the medication. I thought of doing something, maybe it would sound silly, or maybe something basic, but I opened the window and took a big breath of air, as if I were really outside enjoying the morning air, surrounded by nature. It was there, it was that moment, that I saw you for the first time".

I froze. Had she seen me before? Was she aware of my existence? Was that possible? Suddenly, my heartbeat accelerated, I was nervous, very nervous, but I didn't want it to be noticed.

"Ah... Yeah?"

"Yes," she said, drawing a beautiful smile on her face, "that's when I saw you. I always thought you were a gardener, because when I woke up early, I saw you in the gardens," I swallowed. "Until I saw you cleaning the hallway, that day you closed the door to my room".

"I see," I smiled, "so... you may have been disappointed".

"No way," she interrupted, "I don't understand it well, but I had become happy, rather animated, because that person I used to see in the gardens was someone who was also part of that hellish building, a person who was close to me. Later, we started talking and I realized that you were not... You didn't belong to that world, and I'm still adamant about that. You shouldn't be part of such a sinister, absurd, horrible place... So..."

"Lonely?"

"Exactly".

I heard her cell phone vibrating, she bent her head down; I had no lack of explanation, I knew perfectly well what was about to happen. Our meeting had come to an end, I began to tremble, I wanted to cry, to hold her hands and beg her not to leave, to stay a little longer, however, I do not have the right to be so selfish.

WHello? - I'm on my way," she replied with a hint of discontent and hung up. "They are waiting for me".

"I understand," I said and took out my wallet, "you'd better keep your promise".

"Why are you going to pay?"

"Because I beat you and took out my wallet before," I stuck out my tongue trying to look funny, I had to somehow disguise and hide how bad I was feeling.

"Next time it's on me," she said, pointing at me with her thumb.

I wanted to tell her not to take for granted invitations that wouldn't happen, but I just looked at her, smiled and nodded slightly. We stood up, I went to pay the bill, and as I turned around, I noticed that she was waiting for me by the glass door. I showed her my thumb as I walked towards her, so she opened the door and...

... and our meeting was over. My little encounter with heaven was over.

"We'll see each other some other time," she said as she put her cell phone in her purse. "I hope that this time we will not have time limitations".

"All right," I said, "whenever you want".

"Really?" I nodded again. "I'll take your word for it. Wait for my call".

"I will".

"Or you could call me".

"We'll see".

Bubbles took one of my hands, shook it and caressed it with her thumb. She seemed to want to support me with that simple and meaningful gesture. Her hand was very warm, her touch was soft and she felt as if she was giving me condolences. This was too good to be real. She said something, but I was so absorbed in my thoughts that I didn't hear her, and when I asked her to say it again, I heard clearly:

"Say hello to the one who sent me the flowers. Please tell them also how grateful I am to them".

"Yes, of course," I smiled back.

"Thank you," and that's when she let go of my hand, licked her lips and, without blinking, looked into my eyes to give me one last word. "Goodbye".

"Goodbye, Bubbles".

I don't know how I had the courage and strength to say goodbye to her like that. The miracle was over, I had to return to my reality, and Bubbles was not part of it, but it was a beautiful and beautiful illusion that made me believe in love. That illusion, too, made me fall into reality.

All this time, I thought she was the one who was dead in life, but the reality was this: I am the flower that was plucked from the garden and the one that is falsely left in a glass of water until it dies. The glass of water, the false hope of life. Bubbles was, for me, my glass of water; at the same time, she was the one who saw me die and took me in her arms for it, so that I would receive my death with the comfort that, at least, I tried to save myself.

She walked away, and as it became more difficult for me to distinguish her silhouette within that crowd, the tears came down my face again. This was not for me, I am not meant to have any kind of relationship with anyone. Fraternal, loving relationships, I am not cut out for that, I am not fit.

All the flowers I once gave to Bubbles were actually for me. Because the only one who was really dead was me.

It was always me.

_the end_

**Author's Note:**

> This story is based in a song from BTS called "The Truth Untold".  
> If you find any misspelling or grammatical errors, I apologize. I am not a native speaker of English, I do this translation from my knowledge. For your understanding, thank you very much.


End file.
